New Heights
by ardavenport
Summary: Qui-Gon discovers something new about himself. Padawan Qui-Gon, Master Dooku


**New Heights**

by ardavenport

* * *

The door to the small meditation chamber slid open. The man in the doorway cast a long, dark shadow on the floor, the subdued lighting of the hallway behind him still bright in the darkened room.

Qui-Gon Jinn remained undisturbed by the interruption. Cross-legged on a sitting platform, his eyes focused on the lightsaber floating in the air before him. It was pristine and polished, black and shiny chrome on the outside. Qui-Gon saw inside it, the inner workings that he'd crafted and assembled with his own hands. Building it was one of the most sacred acts of a Jedi. He knew every part of this weapon, and the Force flowed through him, through it.

Standing silently in the doorway, Dooku allowed his Padawan to finish his meditation. Shortly, Qui-Gon breathed deeply, blinked and then raised his hand to pluck the lightsaber out of the air.

"I expect that your mediation has been fruitful, my Padawan." Dooku's low sonorous voice, severe and demanding, interrupted the silence. Still cradling the lightsaber, his apprentice turned his head toward him.

"Yes, Master."

Dooku felt relief, though he was careful not to show it. There was a light in Qui-Gon's eyes that promised a better showing from his student. The boy unwound his long legs and stood. Dooku stepped aside and they proceeded down the hall of the Jedi Temple together, Qui-Gon half a step behind his Master. Qui-Gon did not ask and Dooku did not say, but they both knew they were going to the training arenas.

For Dooku, there was no excuse for Qui-Gon to have been doing so badly in their sparring. It was true that the boy had grown a great deal lately; he was nearly eighteen years in age, but Dooku had taught him how to compensate for that. Yet, lately Qui-Gon seemed to be all clumsy arms and legs, not the strong, powerful fighter he should be. Dooku was at a loss to understand what he was doing wrong. Hoping to prompt the boy into doing better, Dooku had relentlessly drilled his Padawan from the most elementary exercises to advanced forms, but the pressure only led to more mistakes, increasing the deep embarrassment Qui-Gon felt over his sudden deficiency. Dooku had even declined a mission from the Council, pleading that his Padawan was not up to it, and he had made sure that Qui-Gon knew about it, too.

As much as he hated to admit it, Dooku realized that the problem was not one that he could drive out. The solution had to be something for Qui-Gon to discover. He had assigned his Padawan to fashion a new lightsaber. Though his performance hardly merited such a task, his old saber was clearly too small for the teenager's now larger hands. They had returned from Illum that morning. Qui-Gon's quest for a crystal to complete his saber in the sacred caves there have been surprisingly uneventful according to what his Padawan had told him.

Upon returning to the Temple, Qui-Gon's first exercises with the new weapon had been barely acceptable. He had actually dropped it during his first sparring match, a stunning disappointment. The new saber seemed to have done nothing less than completely sever the unsteady mind-body harmony that the boy had. Horrified, Dooku had ordered Qui-Gon into solitude until he could account for himself better.

Dooku had used the time to seek out an empty meditation chamber, to regain his own equilibrium. No problem was unsolvable. Dooku had fixated on that one truth and none of the details of Qui-Gon's inexplicable regression. He was lost in the details. The solution was not there.

The doors to the practice rooms parted and they scanned the large room for an open area. Dooku spotted one by a far wall and headed that way. Qui-Gon followed. They walked around the Jedi, training in their own circles. Most fought in pairs, a few in groups. Most used lightsabers, but a few practiced simple hand-to-hand fighting techniques. Qui-Gon saw a tiny male with a mane of golden hair confront a furry behemoth who had trouble keeping up with the smaller being's acrobatics.

Qui-Gon's fingers tightened around his new lightsaber; he felt that it was part of him, as it should be. He stilled the anticipation he felt, keeping his mind on the upcoming bout with Dooku. He would succeed.

He'd had a revelation.

They reached the empty circle. Dooku, tall and stately in his brown tunic and tabards, tall boots and tan pants, took the center. Qui-Gon, younger and beardless in his lighter, cream-colored clothes and dark boots and belt, took his own place opposite Dooku.

Dooku ignited his saber and held it up in a salute. Qui-Gon did the same.

Dooku lunged. Qui-Gon stepped aside and blocked his Master's blue saber with his own green blade. The new color did not surprise him anymore. His old saber had been blue like his Master's.

Dooku twirled, his saber coming at his apprentice from above and Qui-Gon blocked again. He immediately advanced, pushing into Dooku with his shoulder. Only momentarily surprised, Dooku whirled to the side before Qui-Gon could push him out of the circle. His glowing blue saber cut low. Qui-Gon jumped high over it and Dooku had to duck to avoid the green blade coming down toward his head. He whirled away again, returning to the center of the circle, his saber extended, pointing at Qui-Gon's chest.

It was only there for a few seconds before Dooku quashed the expression, but Qui-Gon saw the gleam of pride in the Master's eyes.

"I see improvement, Padawan. It has been long overdue," he stated.

His blade whirling, Dooku attacked again, with many blows. Qui-Gon blocked them, holding his ground; the Force seemed to rise up though him, guiding his movements, increasing his strength and focus. His Master clearly sensed it and he backed up for a new attack. Qui-Gon advanced with his own version of the attack that Dooku had just tried. He used all his strength in the blows, his new lightsaber feeling like an extension of his arms. The green and blue blades snapped and crackled when they met.

Qui-Gon fought with the strength of his new revelation, something that even his stern Master had failed to understand.

Qui-Gon was now nearly as tall as Dooku.

He did not know if he would be as tall or taller than his Master. Qui-Gon suspected not, but the change and his broader shoulders were a new fighting advantage that he had not been using. Some part of his subconscious must have realized it, disrupting his usual fighting style.

He did not have a 'usual' style anymore. It was changing, as he was.

He had not understood the changes. His Master had not understood them either. The frustration had built up between them, further obscuring the problem. They had both noted his physical changes without internalizing what they meant. Little differences had been accumulating in him for a long time, longer legs and arms, broader chest, the subtle change in perception of the world seen from his new height.

Whirling to the side Qui-Gon evaded Dooku's downward swing. His mind, heart and body were one again. Green clashed with bright blue. The new lightsaber had been made for his new self, not the teenager who had fashioned it.

Deflecting Qui-Gon's lightsaber just enough for it to miss him, the older man's arm shot out with a powerful Force push aimed at his opponent.

But Qui-Gon wasn't there for it. He ducked to the side and thrust his blade upward, next to his Master's ear.

They stood frozen together. The match was over, Qui-Gon having delivered the potentially killing blow.

This time, Dooku did not try to hide his expression, first of complete surprise, then of great satisfaction. Slowly, they both lowered their sabers. Dooku raised his to salute his student and Qui-Gon returned it. They extinguished their lightsabers together.

"I see I have trained you well." Dooku was just a little breathless as he spoke, another victory. Qui-Gon humbly accepted this slight praise. This was Dooku's way. He never liked to be effusive, because he felt that it blunted the striving for excellence. One can always do better, he often said, especially a Jedi. He demanded just as much perfection from himself as he did from his apprentice.

With his new growth, they had become more physically similar, but now they were more different than ever. Qui-Gon knew he would not be like his Master, accepting or rationing out praise like a precious commodity. He loved his mentor whether he showed only stoic satisfaction or unreserved approval, as he did now with a warm smile and a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. But he would not be like him.

Qui-Gon sensed the strength of his new revelation in him as they separated and assumed their positions for a new match. The fact that he now consciously chose not to emulate his Master was a deeper revelation still. He would be different, like the green lightsaber.

**— End —**

(This story was first posted on tf.n: 16-Dec-2006)

**Disclaimer:** All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.


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